A Born Legacy
by TheBlueAvenger
Summary: Join Terry Getter as he tries to win the F-Zero Grand Prix! However, he may be getting more than he bargained for... Chapter 7 is finally up.
1. The Spirit Awakens

Moonlight filtered in through the window and rested upon two beds. In one of the beds, the thick blanket was thrown off very quietly, so as to not disturb the occupant of the other bed. The boy who threw off the blanket reached over to his nightstand. He put on a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses. They had a green tint to them, effectively obscuring his eyes. He rummaged through the drawer in his nightstand until he grabbed something small and put it in his pants pocket. As he climbed out of bed, a beam of moonlight washed over him, revealing him to whoever might be looking: a swath of brown hair covered a great deal of his face, while the glasses veiled another good portion. He wore a yellow shirt, a dark blue bow tie, and a matching pair of gloves. He wore a pair of shorts, also a dark shade of blue. As he got up, he put on his specially designed boots, labeled with a 'D.' The light gray boots reached up to his knees, and upon closer inspection, they appeared to have retractable wheels set in the bottom. The boy quietly tiptoed towards the door, and... CRASH! He knocked over a lamp. Immediately, a light from the other side of the room switched on.

"Eerrgh... Terry? What are you doing up?" the kid in the other bed asked, rubbing his eyes groggily. "It's midnight! We have our mechanical engineering test tomorrow!"

"Smith, you're my roommate," Terry replied. "You should know by now that that class is irrelevant for me."

"I don't follow."

Terry sighed. "Look, there's something I have to do. If I let you in on it, will you promise not to tell the headmaster?"

Smith sat up. "Sure, Terry, you know that you can tell me anything."

"Very well," Terry said. "Follow me." Smith climbed out of his bed and put on a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He very quickly ran his hand through his short blonde hair and retrieved his backpack. Together, they crept out of their room and down the hallway.

"Now," muttered Terry, "Be very silent. We can't afford anyone else finding out about..." His advice was unheeded as Smith promptly tripped over a doorstop, fell over, and proceeded to dump the contents of his backpack over the floor. Very loudly, of course. The door that they were in front of creaked open, and a set of fearful eyes peered out. Upon seeing Terry and Smith, however, the set of eyes became less terrified and stepped into the hallway. The set of eyes belonged to a very bulky student with a shock of bright red hair.

"Terry? Smith? What are y'all doing up?" asked the student with a very pronounced Southern accent.

"I am afraid that we can't tell you, Mickey, it could get us in a lot of-" Terry was cut off as Smith interrupted him.

"We're gonna go see this thing that Terry has to do! Wanna come?"

"Sure! Sounds like a load a' laughs!" Mickey said.

Terry slapped his forehead. "Oh, for the love of God..." He continued down the hallway, Smith and Mickey trailing close behind.

"I cannot BELIEVE how inept you are at traveling down a hallway!" Terry hissed at Smith. Due to Smith tripping over things, running into things, or slipping on things, the small group of Terry, Smith, and Mickey had since amassed every student on the floor. Terry grumbled under his breath and stopped in front of a door. "Okay, everyone who has been tagging along..." here, he stopped to glare at Smith, "Here is where it gets imperative that everyone remains calm and most importantly, quiet." Terry glared at Smith again. "What I am about to show you is the culmination of my years at Einstein Academy." The crowd oohed and aahed in appreciation. Terry opened the door and revealed a small room.

"Dude, that's what your accomplishment is?" asked one of the older students. "A room?"

"No. The room will merely serve as a purpose to transport us to my project," Terry responded, pronouncing each word eloquently. He led all the students into the room and stepped in, closing the door behind him. Terry pulled a small device out of his pants pocket and pressed a button on it. The room hummed softly and started shaking. In the background, a song began playing.

Smith, being the closest to the back, could make out lyrics: '...and I know what you're expecting...I know where you're gonna go...I know why you're gonna lose...' After the room vibrated for a few minutes, Terry pressed another button on the remote he had and the door to the room opened. Instead of stepping out into the hallway, like most of the students expected, Terry led the group into a dimly lit, spacious room with a mechanical hum whirring away in the background.

"This, friends, is my lab. Because of my enormous intellect..." At this point, a few of the older students gritted their teeth, "the headmaster allowed me to construct a laboratory deep in the bowels of the school. He lets me conduct any sort of experiment here after classes are done. However, I fear that he would not approve of my latest undertaking. So, he shall not know.

"Many of you are aware of the F-Zero races. For the uninformed, the F-Zero Grand Prix is a series of races held in locales all over the universe. The thing that sets them apart from the earlier F-Max races is that the engines actually allow the crafts to float about a foot above the ground... This allows them to achieve mind-boggling speeds."

A student in the back raised his hand and asked, "Um... what?"

Terry sighed and replied, "Think pod racing on steroids." A general murmur of understanding swept through the crowd. Terry waited for the murmur to die down and continued. "The main contender for this year's race is Captain Falcon. However, in celebration of his second Grand Prix win in a row, the Grand Prix Committee is opening up twenty more slots for new racers to register. To the best of my knowledge, ten of those slots have already been taken."

Smith spoke up. "Terry, you can't possibly mean that you want to enter... you would need a craft of your own, to start!"

Terry grinned. "They don't call me Digi-Boy for nothing!" He snapped his fingers and machinery all over the lab whirred to life. A hole opened in the ceiling and a light blue craft descended from it. It was sleek, a bulb at one end, containing both the cockpit and the engines, which tapered into a thin front.

"Allow me the honor of introducing you to... the Cosmic Dolphin!" At this, a snicker rolled through the audience. Terry scowled. "What? Don't tell me that any of you could do better!"

An assortment of various suggestions erupted from the group. "The Pink Spider!" "No, the Magic Seagull!" "The Silver Rat sounds cool!" "No! No! The Dark Schneider!" "That's stupid! How about the Smith Racer?" The crowd fell silent and turned toward Smith. "What? It's just an idea..."

"Enough!" shouted Terry. "It's already been named! Now, this is the craft I shall be using. I built it with my own two hands... it took me four years!" Terry paused. "This will be the last you will see of me until I can win the Grand Prix. That may be as little as a few months, or as long as ten years... But I will return! I promise you that!"

Smith moved closer to Terry. "Terry? Um... if you for some reason don't make it back..."

"Yes?"

"Can I have your Game Boy?"

Terry stared at Smith for a minute and shook his head. He clambered into the Cosmic Dolphin and snapped. All of the mechanics in the lab powered down, except for a door that opened and let the night air waft in on the students. The Cosmic Dolphin powered up and zoomed out the door. "So long!" Terry called as he shot off Einstein Academy's campus.

The other students looked at each other. Smith glanced toward Mickey and stated, "He's... so brave." Mickey nodded his head.

"Hey, how do you suppose we get out of the lab? Terry has the controls..."

Terry glanced out of the window at the school where he had spent the last twelve years of his life, rapidly getting smaller in the distance. He cleared the thoughts of nostalgia from his head and snapped his fingers. The Cosmic Dolphin took over on autopilot while a 3-D map of the surrounding area appeared in front of him. He glanced over it.

"Hmmm... registrations are being held in Mute City. That means that I have to go through Aeropolis to get there, but Aeropolis' main computer has been down lately, so traffic will be horrible. I could go through the Red Canyon as a shortcut, but I think that a band of thieves has been hiding out there... I wish I watched the news more often..." Terry pondered for a moment. "I know! I'll go through Green Plant!"

But as he pronounced this decision, two vehicles zoomed past him. Terry blinked in shock and snapped his fingers. The map disappeared and the craft returned manual steering to him. Terry accelerated and quickly moved past the two crafts. He parked the Cosmic Dolphin in an inconspicuous shrubbery and hid himself as well. One of the crafts rammed the other, causing the latter's engines to explode and grounding it. A man stumbled out, clad entirely in black with horns adorning his headgear. The second vehicle slowed to a stop and the driver got out. He was a man adorned in purple and red with a purple cape. Terry saw the faint outline of a brain on the back of the man's head, but he attributed it to a trick of the light.

"No... please... I can win it this time..." the man in black gasped.

The man in purple lifted the other by his neck and muttered in a gravelly voice, "You know the price of failure..." He set him down and got back in his craft, a sleek dark-purple vehicle that started out bulbous but swept into points at the back. The purple craft sped off. The man in black shakily stood up and walked away slowly, leaving the smoking remains of his craft behind.

Terry could barely hear the following words "I will win..." as the man wandered away. Terry shivered and got back into the Cosmic Dolphin.

It was dawn when Terry finally managed to get to Mute City. He parked outside of the registration building, a garish, loud skyscraper decked out entirely with gaudy neon lights that pictured, of all things, a cow. Terry entered and promptly ran into another boy that looked to be about his age.

"Hey! You punk! Watch where you're going!" the kid yelled at him. Terry took a closer look at the kid he had apparently offended. He was short, his head mostly obscured by an aviator's helmet. He wore a brown vest that covered a white shirt with a Japanese symbol on it. He wore brown shorts and had wooden sandals on his feet. The most striking thing about him, though, was the katana that he had strapped to his waist. At this point, the boy whipped out the katana and pointed it right at Terry. "You idiot! Are you entering the races? 'Cause you have absolutely no chance! I am the best! Remember the name Daigoroh, because you'll be worshipping it someday!"

Terry stood where he was, still in shock, as an older man, rather chubby with sunglasses and a bandana on but otherwise dressed similarly to Daigoroh, turned around and picked Daigoroh up. "Stop wasting your breath on him," he said, "We have to get you registered!"

"But Dad..." Daigoroh whined, "I was having fun berating him!"

"You can do it later, Dai," his father said. "For now, though, we need to get you ready for racing."

"...Okay, Dad." Daigoroh stuck his tongue out at Terry as he passed.

Terry recovered from the shock of that onslaught and looked at where the Gorohs had passed through. There were three doors, reading 'Men,' 'Women,' and 'Other.' After wondering briefly who would be in the third door, Terry opened the first and walked through. A woman clad in a white suit greeted him.

"Hi! I'm Jody Summer, and I will be helping you register today. You got lucky –you are registering for the last spot! Do you have a parent with you, young man?" she asked with a pleasant smile on her face.

"Um... no, I'm sorry, I didn't bring my parents with me," Terry answered, neglecting to include that his parents dumped him off at an academy when he was only a year old.

"Oh, well, that's okay. I need to collect some information about you, however. What is your full name?"

"Terry Getter."

"Age?"

"14 years."

"Craft?"

"Cosmic Dolphin."

"We will have our technicians take a look at your craft, to get its specs. Now, for the last bit of info... what do you want to be called in the race literature?"

Terry paused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't have to use your real name when you race. We have a racer by the name of Sterling LaVaughn who races under the name the Skull. Some racers, like Octoman, have true names that we can't even pronounce. Do you want a racing name?"

Terry thought for a moment. "Yes. I would like to be called... Digi-Boy."


	2. Gomar and Shioh Kick Things Off

"Well, Terry, it looks like things are all wrapped up here," said Jody as she stood up with Terry's registration form. "If you go through the door in the back of this room, you'll end up in a waiting area. There you can meet some of the other new racers. You will be notified when and where the first race will take place."

"Thanks," replied Terry.

"Oh, and one more thing, Terry... you may not know it, but I'm a racer, too," remarked Jody. "Good luck out on the tracks!" With that, she walked out of the room, her long, brown hair flowing behind her. Terry thought for a moment, got up, and went into the waiting room.

Almost immediately, he was bowled over by a short, white robot. It paused, turned toward Terry, and said in a low-pitched, electronic voice, "Pardon me, sir." It did an awkward little half-bow and continued running around the room.

Terry stood and stared at the robot for a moment before being run over again, this time by a short boy in an aviator's helmet. "Daigoroh?" he asked.

"Get bent, four eyes," Daigoroh said briefly before turning to chase the robot again. "Come back here, rust bucket! I want to see what you can do!"

Terry stood back up and glanced around the room. It looked for all the world like they were in a doctor's waiting room – small chairs, old magazines on tables, even a height chart on the wall. In addition to the two that he had already seen, there were several more new racers in the room. Daigoroh's father was sitting over in the corner, next to a flashy-looking man, donned in a white outfit, a red and white cape, and a white helmet, fiddling with some futuristic device. A young woman, clad in a red top and poofy red pants, was sitting a few seats from the man, teasing her hair. A few seats from where Terry was, a very tall, very fat man with a jewel inset in his shirt and several inset into his pants turned toward Terry and glared at him, revealing the nasty scar on his cheek. A man decked in a green shirt, black pants, and a black top hat was sitting behind a folding table, offering to gamble with anyone who passed him. A greasy man sitting next to the gambler, who looked like a mechanic from the 20th century, was asleep and snoring very loudly. The final person in the room was a young man reading "Fantasy Video Games Monthly." He had to stop reading occasionally to move his messy black hair out of his eyes.

"Rust bucket! Hold up!" Daigoroh yelled at the top of his lungs. This seemed to work, as the small robot stopped and turned around. As Daigoroh got closer, the robot held out one of his arms and placed its hand firmly on Daigoroh's chest. "Hey! What are you-"

ZZAAPPP! The robot delivered an electric shock to Daigoroh and ran over to the man in the corner with the red and white cape. Daigoroh followed him, slightly smoldering, and went to his father. The man in the cape spoke up. "QQQ, what have I told you about shocking innocents?"

The robot replied, "Sir, under the circumstances, I perceived the boy as a threat to my well-being and I took what was the logical course of action. Had I not, I would have been damaged."

The man in the cape sighed and turned toward the elder Goroh. "Look, I'm sorry, but maybe you could keep your kid under a little more control?"

The elder Goroh turned toward the man. His eye twitched. "No one EVER tells me how to raise my child." Quicker than Terry could blink, Goroh had a katana out and pointed right at the man's nose.

"You, sir, have made a very big mistake..." replied the man.

"Oh?" replied Goroh. "I am Samurai Goroh, fool! I don't make mistakes!" he continued while sneering at the man. The man brought out the device he had been working with and touched it to the tip of the blade. The sword vibrated for a moment and then shattered into pieces. Goroh stared at it for a moment.

"I am Phoenix! I am a time detective! Pull anything like that again and I will arrest you!" Phoenix calmly sat back down and fiddled with the device some more, while QQQ shut itself down and entered a rest mode. Goroh collected the pieces of his katana in one hand and picked up Daigoroh in the other.

"Come, Dai. We don't need to stay around these halfwits. We're leaving."

"But, Dad, what about the announcement of the Prix's courses?" Daigoroh whined.

"We're leaving," said Goroh coldly. He walked back out through the entrance, while Daigoroh made obscene hand gestures at Terry behind his father's back.

Soon after that exciting event, a deep, male voice came over the loudspeaker. "All new racers, please enter the door to the back of the room." Everyone clamored around the door, except for the mechanic, who was still asleep. Terry had the poor fortune to be stuck at the back of the crowd. Even more unfortunately, he was standing behind the tall, fat, jewel-encrusted man, who, much to Terry's disgust, also smelled of cheap cigars. The first through the door was Phoenix, carrying QQQ on his back. The red-clothed woman followed him, and soon everyone else went through as well.

Inside the adjoining room, there were several seats, which immediately got filled up. Terry was dismayed to find that the only available chairs were at the back of the room and directly behind the fat man he had stood behind in line. Terry was more distressed to realize that he could not see over the man. He leaned far to the right, just as the door opened again and two brown-toned aliens in blue suits walked through, one short and fat, the other tall and skinny. They walked to the middle of the room (where Terry could not see them) and began talking.

"I am Gomar..." said one, "...and I am Shioh!" said the other. "We will be your guide for the final stage of racing registration." Here, Terry noticed a seat where he could see and moved to it. The tall alien looked at a clipboard, then looked up and began counting the crowd. "Hmm... let's see... 20 new applicants total... 11 are via the AXGX league... 4 are forwarded from the ABT tournament... and 5 are from the PMFT league." He continued counting. "11 have already registered and Mr. Goroh told us about Dai not being here... that should leave 8. But I only see 7... Will you go check the waiting room, Gomar?" Gomar nodded and walked out. Moments later, he re-entered with the sleeping mechanic in tow.

"Man, Shioh, this guy can sleep," remarked Gomar. Shioh looked at the mechanic for a moment and walked over to the wall. He hit a panel on the wall and suddenly, the wall in the back of the room lit up with a picture of a very burly man in camouflage.

"Get up, private!" the image yelled. "This is no place for slacking!" The mechanic jolted awake and glanced around.

The image shut off and Gomar murmured to Shioh, "Just as I thought. This is the temporally misplaced applicant. He was in the 20th century army." Shioh nodded knowingly. The mechanic took a spare seat at the back of the room as Shioh began to speak.

"In this part of registration, you will learn the courses in this year's Grand Prix, and you will also be assigned a private sector of Mute City for your own personal racing practice. I trust you all know the basics of racing?" The entire group nodded simultaneously. "Good," continued Shioh. He gestured to Gomar, who pulled a small electronic device out from behind his back and handed it to him. Shioh pressed a few buttons on the device and spoke again. "This year's Grand Prix will be held in the AX Cup. Some of you may be familiar with those courses, but for the benefit of those who don't, we will explain them." A wall lit up behind the pair and displayed a model of their galaxy, the Milky Way.

"The first few races are all held on Earth," said Shioh as the picture zoomed in on the familiar green-and-blue planet, "and the first race his held very near here, in Aeropolis." The screen zoomed in again to reveal a very light-colored city with cars rushing all over the place. A large computer terminal was set in the middle of the city. "The name of the race is Screwdriver. The next race is on a course that is currently floating above our very heads," continued Shioh as the entirety of the group looked up. "No, no, I meant in outer space," he said while rolling his eyes. The screen zoomed back out and focused on a strip of metal that was contorted into oddly bent positions, floating peacefully in space. "Because this area of space is famous for its meteor showers, this course has been dubbed Meteor Storm." The screen zoomed back in on Earth, this time focusing on a very industrialized city with a brown sky. "The third course is held at Port Town, which many of you know as the hometown of the enigmatic Captain Falcon." At this, the man with jewels in his clothes clenched his fists. "This course is entitled the Cylinder Wave."

Gomar stepped in front of Shioh. "Your fourth race will be in the Lightning metropolis." The screen scrolled over to a dark town with bolts of lightning striking several buildings. "This one is the Lightning Road. Be careful here, as you never know if you'll be the lightning's next target." The screen scrolled once again, this time to a lush, green course with plants growing onto the road. Terry recognized it as one of the routes he thought of taking to get to Mute City in the first place. "This is Green Plant. Since it's the fifth race, you can bet that it is also the hardest. Although Shioh and I have raced on the Lightning Road a few times and it is flippin' hard." Shioh cleared his throat. "Oh, right, the course. This track is named Spiral, and you can guess why."

Shioh stepped back in front of Gomar. "Sorry for the long speech, but your orientation is now over. While we were briefing you, your crafts have been programmed with directions to the section of Mute City that you can practice in. The first race, in Aeropolis, will be held in three days exactly. Make sure that you get there at 1100 hours sharp, or you won't get to race. Happy practicing!" With that, he and Gomar walked quickly out of the room.

The man with the jeweled clothes stood up and immediately charged for the door. Unfortunately, Terry happened to be in his way and was promptly knocked over. Phoenix immediately stood up and grabbed hold of the man's shirt, while QQQ helped Terry back up. "Hold it, sir, we don't tolerate public violence in the time force. If you show another outburst again, you will be... forcefully incarcerated."

"Ha! Like you could catch me! Even the legendary Captain Falcon can't keep me and my mafia – I mean, um... bye!" The fat man bolted out of the room.

"Kid, are you all right?" asked Phoenix.

"Yeah, I think I'm okay, except for a bruised ego," replied Terry.

"Good. That man is Don Genie. We are currently investigating him for connections to the mob, and I'd say we just got something like a confession. Anyway, look, kid, if he or Goroh gives you any more trouble, talk to me, okay?" Phoenix left the room. QQQ waved to Terry and followed suit. Terry smiled to himself.

"This is already shaping up to be an interesting Grand Prix..."


	3. The Dream is Over So Quickly?

Terry struggled his way to the Cosmic Dolphin amid the swath of other racers, all struggling to get to their crafts. As he strapped his seatbelt shut, he noticed several crafts zooming off to different parts of Mute City. One in particular, however, caught his eye. It was a red, jagged affair, with what looked like gun turrets mounted on the front. It swept back into two wing-like extensions and followed through with large flares on the back, each with a window inside. Despite the windows on the flares, the cockpit sat firmly in the middle. Terry could barely make out two words emblazoned in white on the side: 'The Ragnarok.' What caught Terry's eye about this craft, though, was that it was just sitting there. He couldn't tell whether the pilot was in the craft or not, but he was fairly certain that everyone had left the building. 'Oh well,' Terry thought. He shifted the Cosmic Dolphin into motion, snapped his fingers, and let his treasured craft drive on autopilot to the practice site.

A loud beeping noise awakened him. 'I must have fallen asleep on the way here,' thought Terry as he gazed over his practice site. It was an oval, fairly small, but it was decked out in the same gaudy fashion that was the Mute City trademark. Terry was slightly dismayed that his practice course was directly under a humongous 'Smoke Laramie Cigarettes – NOW WITH MORE TAR' neon sign, but he decided it couldn't be helped. He moved his craft onto the course, noting the 'Mute City – Sonic Oval' sign that he passed. Terry shifted his car out of city driving mode and started doing laps around the oval.

After fifteen laps, Terry began to get bored. He logged into his craft's central computer and accessed a specially made simulation program. This would allow him to race against computer-controlled opponents. Terry had tried actually marketing this before, but people were too enthralled with the real races to pay attention to a simulation. Terry put his craft on autopilot and immersed himself in the illusory worlds of his computer.

His opponent was a human colored silver, about the same size and stature as Samurai Goroh. He and virtual Goroh wove their ways through a brightly colored dreamland; reds and yellows denoting where the track stopped and empty virtual space took over. Terry snapped his fingers and several holographic screens rose in front of him. He pointed to one of the screens and it beeped in response. It closed the first screens and brought up several more, each displaying one of a number of options Terry could take. Suddenly, however, the screens shut down as the virtual Goroh slammed the side of his craft and thumbed its nose at him. Terry brought the craft out of autopilot and chased after his opponent. He brought the ship over a ramp, launching him in front of Goroh. They traded positions until they reached a passage too narrow to go side-by-side. Terry sped out in front and took a sizable lead, as Goroh had no choice but go in behind Terry. After a long ride through the passage, Terry brought up his options screen once more. He looked at it and smirked. Terry powered his craft down as Goroh zoomed by him, waving as it went. Terry waited a few minutes and powered his craft back up again. He followed Goroh's path until he found his opponent, who had powered down its vehicle as well. A virtual simulation of Phoenix (a recent addition to the program) stood over it and tapped a clipboard with a pen, signifying that Goroh had been going 650 kilometers over the speed limit. Terry stopped the car within his opponent's line of sight, smirked, waved, and zoomed off.

Soon after, Terry decided to stop practicing for the night and find a good place to sleep. He snapped his fingers and a holographic map of Mute City burst into view in front of him. A list of all available hotels was displayed on a list to his right, while the sites of the hotels blinked green on the map. Terry located one and programmed the location into his ship, setting it to autopilot. The ship zipped off, Terry tired with the stress of his first day on the road.

Terry had been on the road for about ten minutes when he noticed that the street he was on was clear of all other cars. He grinned to himself and put his car into racing mode. He returned the controls to manual and gunned his engines. A burst of blue flames flared out of the boosters on the back of his ship.

Terry shifted into forward and was immediately cut off by a sleek, bulbous, monster of a ship. He skidded to a halt. It stopped directly in front of him and a hatch opened. Out stepped a large man, decked out in a very loud set of purple and red clothes. Terry noticed that it was the same man he had seen on the way to Mute City, and shifted with spectacular speed into reverse. Suddenly, the man disappeared and the Cosmic Dolphin ground to a halt. Terry looked behind him, and saw that the same man was holding his craft and keeping it from moving! Terry tried to drive forward, but the man disappeared again and ended up directly on his windshield. Terry's eyes widened.

"Exit the car, boy..." the man growled in a very gravelly voice. Terry shook his head. The man smashed his fist through the windshield of the Cosmic Dolphin and grabbed Terry by the collar. "I said, LEAVE THE CAR!" The man withdrew his hand, and Terry with it, through the windshield, leaving Terry with several deep gashes along the side of his body.

"Wha... what do you want?" Terry whimpered.

"Boy, I know you saw me that night... I can't have anyone, no matter how insignificant, know about me, except for my minions. So, that leaves you with two options... become my lackey..."

"Or what?" asked Terry, dreading the answer.

"Or you will face screaming doom," answered his assailant. He tightened his grip. "Which will it be?"

Terry mumbled, "I guess I have no choice..." and edged his hand toward his belt.

"That's a reasonable child," the man replied. Terry clicked a button on his belt and the Cosmic Dolphin suddenly burst into activity. It zoomed forward, throwing Terry back into the driver's seat and propelling the man underneath it.

'The antigrav engines should fry him,' Terry thought with some satisfaction. He looked back over his shoulder and saw that the man was not there anymore. He also noticed that his car had stopped moving. 'Oh, no...' Terry thought and looked back out front. The man was standing on the front of the Cosmic Dolphin, grinding the nose of the craft into the road. Terry pressed another button on his belt, and the cockpit flew open, launching him past his mystery attacker. He landed squarely on the ground, directly in front of a garish 'Visit Fun-Fun Mountain!' sign. Terry glanced back toward his ship, and noted that it had shut itself down. 'Good,' Terry thought to himself, before realizing that something was missing... and it currently had a hold on the back of his neck.

"You insolent little whelp..." the man snarled. "That just earned you a trip to the farthest reaches of the galaxy!" He grabbed Terry's waist with one gargantuan hand and reached for a button on his wrist with the other. Terry launched a fist directly at the glass casing, which he could now see did encase the man's brain. The fist hit at the exact same moment as the man hit the button. Terry felt the world melt away beneath him and heard his attacker's victorious voice.

"HAHAHA! Fool! Never cross the mighty Deathborn and expect to win! I will rule everything!"

Terry shut his eyes as the world drained away beneath his feet; he knew it was all over...


	4. So It Begins

A lone flame flickered light over a dark, subterranean room. As the light flickered across the room, hordes of roaches scattered to darker corners. The candle that the flame sat on was being held by a short, squat, elderly man, donned in a white lab coat that stretched tightly over his belly. The old man grinned briefly before picking a large, pointed, drill-like instrument. He walked over to an operating table and addressed the man lying on it.

"Sir, it looks like that boy did a number on you," he said smugly.

"Quiet, fool. I hired you for one purpose and one purpose only – to be my personal surgeon. If you give me lip, you should expect to be... fired... soon. Just like your predecessor," the man growled. "Just repair the bionic housing on my helmet... and make it so that it can withstand a punch this time!"

"Yes, sir," the surgeon said meekly, all traces of arrogance gone from his voice. He pressed a button on his apparatus and a blowtorch appeared through a small slot. He lit the torch and leaned over the man. "Just hold still... it'll be done before you know it..."

A fluorescent light flickered on and off over a sanitized, white bed. The white covers over the bed obscured a small boy. His glasses had been singularly cleaned and were sitting on a table next to him. The boy was swathed in numerous bandages up and down his side, and he had a brace around his neck. He stirred.

"Ugh... ow..." he muttered as he sat up. A nurse, clad in immaculate medical garb, immediately rushed to his side.

"Young man, you should take it easy," she said while gently moving him back into bed. "You've not had enough time for a proper recovery."

"Where am I?" he asked.

"You are in the Lucky Nice General Hospital," the nurse replied. "It's the largest hospital in all of Mute City." She walked to the end of the bed and picked up a clipboard. "Your name's Terry, yes?"

"Um, yes, but... how did I get here?" Terry asked, a puzzled look on his face.

"Oh yes, that's a strange story. We heard a car honk several times outside of the emergency room, and when we went to go check, a blue car was idling in the road. You were sitting in it, unconscious. It was the strangest thing – pinned to your shirt was an envelope that contained enough credits to cover your bill. But that's not important right now. You need to recover," the nurse said as she walked back over to Terry.

Terry thought for a moment. Panic struck him. "What day is it?"

"Why, it's Friday," the nurse replied.

Terry gasped sharply. The orientation was on Tuesday, and the race would be three days after... "No! What time is it?" he asked sadly.

"It's exactly..." the nurse looked at her watch, "1000 hours."

Terry sat up sharply. "I have to leave, now!" he shouted. The nurse tried to restrain him, but Terry jumped out of bed and raced out of the room. He burst out of the front door of the hospital and found the Cosmic Dolphin, quietly charging power through a solar intake panel. Terry flew inside the cockpit, noting that the windshield had been repaired, and shot the Cosmic Dolphin straight out of the parking lot.

Meanwhile, in the shadows cast by some bushes near the parking lot, a lone man smiled. His eyes were covered by a black visor, attached to a red helmet with a golden bird on it. He lifted one yellow-gloved hand to his chin and said to himself, "The boy's got spirit. That's important for the Grand Prix. He'll go far, if he learns that intelligence alone won't win the race for him... It's a good thing that Deathborn misfired his teleport on him." The enigmatic man disappeared into the shadows.

Terry rushed through the clear streets of Mute City. The city was quiet, an oddity for a Friday morning. "Everyone must be at the races!" he thought. "If I don't hurry, I'll miss my chance to be in this year's Prix!" He glanced at his watch. It read 1015. Terry's eyes widened and he accelerated the Cosmic Dolphin's engines even more.

After flying through several miles of relatively calm streets, he reached the Pipe House. The Pipe House was a misnomer, as the building did not contain any pipes except for those used in plumbing; rather, it was a teleport hub designed to help the busy commuter of Mute City. Terry parked his craft in one of the teleport domes and got out. A display on the side of the dome lit up with a picture of the galaxy. Terry poked at a picture of the Earth and the picture scrolled over to the familiar blue-green planet. He poked again, this time at a white-gray city with a decidedly technological feel to it. A message appeared on the screen and Terry got back into the Cosmic Dolphin. A bolt of electricity descended over the Cosmic Dolphin and its pilot; when it cleared, neither the car nor Terry could be seen.

The Aeropolis Branch of the Pipe House was bustling with activity. Men and women with briefcases hurried in and out of the domes, traveling to and from their workplaces, mothers held onto their children to keep them from wandering into the wrong teleport, families laughed as they thought about their happy day ahead. Suddenly, however, the crowd split, much like Moses' legendary parting of the Red Sea. A blue, swift craft bolted through the part and made a sharp turn onto the street.

Unlike Mute City, the streets of Aeropolis were very crowded, but Terry maneuvered his craft through several small openings. Eventually, he made his way to the race site, which was marked with a gigantic sign labeled, "Aeropolis – AX Cup – Screwdriver – 1st Course." Terry looked at his watch and noted that he had arrived a mere fifteen minutes before the race was scheduled to start. He parked the Cosmic Dolphin at the starting line and dashed toward the sign in desk.

Terry reached the desk out of breath and panted, "My name is Digi-Boy. I'm here to race." The registrar looked down at a sheet of paper and put a check on it. He looked back up.

"You're the last one to arrive. Follow me." Terry followed the man as he led the way to the track. On the way, he explained a few things about the race. "Now, we have 49 racers, but only 30 can race at once. So, we have different people race on different tracks at different times," he said. He began to rattle off a list. "Your fellow racers will be...

1. Mighty Gazelle

2. Jody Summer

3. Daigoroh

4. Samurai Goroh

5. Blade

6. Dewey Cheatum

7. Spade

8. PJ

9. Captain Falcon

10. Blood Falcon

11. Lily Flyer

12. Princia Ramode

13. The Skull

14. Dai, San, and Gen

15. Gomar and Shioh

16. Zoda

17. Dr. Clash

18. Beastman

19. Bio-Rex

20. Tanner

21. Mr. EAD

22. James McCloud

23. Don Genie

24. Phoenix

25. QQQ

26. Octoman

27. Super Arrow

28. Mrs. Arrow

29. John Tanaka

...And, of course, yourself."

Terry was able to pick out a few names, but most of them seemed foreign. "Oh well," he thought. "I'll have plenty of time to recognize them. I have five races to do so."

A man appeared high in the sky above Terry. He remained there, moving slightly up and down. "You made a big mistake, child..." he growled. "I promise you will regret this..."


	5. The First Race

The registrar led Terry toward a platform in front of a crowd. He climbed up on the platform and motioned for Terry to join the mass in front of it. The man began to address the audience.

"Ladies and gentleman!" he cried. The audience erupted in cheers. "You are about to witness the first race in the F-Zero AX Cup! Today, we are at Aeropolis, and we are about to see the Screwdriver!" The audience began to applaud. He continued. "I am your emcee, Mr. Zero! Please allow me the honor of introducing the 30 racers you will see here today! First, here is Mighty Gazelle!" The crowd started cheering louder as a tall, gold-tinted cyborg, faintly resembling a robot out of Star Wars, stepped onto the platform. "Mighty Gazelle was damaged in the Great Accident four years ago, but he returns to the races today as a robot!" Gazelle stepped down.

"Now we have the inimitable Jody Summer!" Her ascension to the platform was followed by several catcalls and wolf whistles. Terry recognized her as the woman who had gotten him registered for the races. "Jody is a member of the Galactic Space Federation, and is participating in the Grand Prix for training purposes. We wish her luck!"

"Our next racers are father and son, Samurai and Daigoroh!" Samurai Goroh and Daigoroh both climbed onto the platform. Dai spotted Terry and stuck out his tongue. "They are both racing for one purpose – to defeat the legendary Captain Falcon." Samurai lifted Daigoroh into the air and they both stepped down.

"Next up is Blade!" A young man clad in light blue clothes stepped onto the platform, moving his unruly black hair out of his eyes. Terry identified him as one of the people in the waiting room with him. "Also known as Zane Leonhart, Blade is a newcomer to the races and comes to us through the PMFT league. He likes to spend his time programming role-playing simulations." Blade nodded and stepped down.

"Now we have... wait, is this a joke?" The man peered at the clipboard he was looking at. A lone voice erupted from the crowd. "It's not a joke! It's my actual name!" The man looked up and continued. "We have Dewey Cheatum next." The audience burst into laughter as a man clad in green and a top hat climbed onto the platform. "Mr. Cheatum..." the registrar had to suppress a snicker, "...owns a line of casinos..." The registrar collapsed into a heap of laughter. Cheatum grimaced and climbed back into the crowd, glaring at everyone who looked at him.

Mr. Zero regained his composure and continued. "Our next entrant is Spade." A tall man dressed in tones of grey stepped up, his face obscured by a blue and grey mask that fanned out at the top. Terry noticed that his torso and legs were only attached to each other by a small orb. "Spade is a magician," Mr. Zero continued as Spade pulled an ace of spades out of thin air, "and races to save his circus from shutting down." Spade disappeared in a burst of smoke and reappeared in the crowd.

"Now, here is PJ." A short, yellow alien with bug eyes stepped onto the stage. He was clad in typical cabbie clothes. "PJ used to work for Galaxy Cab and was put on hiatus. His craft is actually his cab!" PJ tipped his hat at the audience.

"Now..." Mr. Zero smiled, "...are you ready? The next racer is... Captain Falcon!" The legendary racer, dressed in dark blue and wearing a red helmet, climbed onto the platform and struck a pose. The crowd went wild. In one section of the audience, a 'We love Captain Falcon' banner was unfurled and drifted in the wind. Captain Falcon grinned and posed again. Mr. Zero continued. "Falcon has won the Grand Prix twice already! It is rumored that he has never lost a race!" The crowd cheered even harder. Falcon stepped down.

Mr. Zero examined his clipboard again. "Our next racer should be familiar as well – Blood Falcon!" A man, who looked almost exactly like Captain Falcon, stepped up, only dressed in red instead of blue. The crowd booed and hissed. Blood Falcon glared at the crowd. "Unfortunately, we don't have any information on Blood Falcon at this time, as he refuses to give us any data." Blood Falcon smirked and climbed back down.

"Lily Flyer is next!" A small girl, about 14 and dressed in a blue coat and cotton pants decorated with hearts, stepped up. "Lily is a member of the Galactic Space Federation as well. She is currently training under Ms. Summers and is also racing for training." Lily flashed a peace sign and winked as she moved back into the mass of competitors.

"Here's Princia Ramode!" A young woman in a red halter top and red, puffy pants, her long, brown hair tied in a sort of double-ponytail above her head, walked up to the platform. She winked. "Princia is the queen-to-be of a far-off desert planet. Since racing is not fitting of a future queen, Princia has asked that we do not tell her father." He grinned as Princia rejoined the crowd.

A man who looked like he was wearing a Halloween mask came on stage. When Terry saw him in clearer light, he realized that the man did actually have a skull for a head. "Here, we have Sterling LaVaughn, or as he is more commonly known, the Skull. For those of you that are wondering, he is in fact dead..." At this, a gasp rose through parts of the audience, "...so he can take as many risks as he wants. Unless, of course, his arm falls off, like it did last year." Mr. Zero chuckled as the Skull shot a glare in his direction.

"Next up is the trio of Dai, San, and Gen." Three incredibly short people walked up to the stage. They looked almost exactly the same – pudgy with two tufts of hair on either side of their heads. The only thing that set them apart was that their color tones were different. One had black hair, the second had green, and the third had dark blue. "They are very adept at gymnastics and can actually use telepathy." One of the triplets had obviously thought of something very funny, because the green-haired one burst into peals of laughter. Mr. Zero glared at them, and they moved back into the crowd.

Gomar and Shioh, the pair that had presented Terry's orientation, stepped onto the platform. "These are Gomar and Shioh! They also race together, much like our previous team. Have fun watching them, though, as they are due to get married to others soon and may stop racing!" They moved off.

A purple-toned, skinny, bald man with a tube going from his head to his back stepped onto the stage, and the entire audience gasped. Even Mr. Zero seemed shaken. "Th-this, ladies and gentlemen, is Z-z-z-zoda." Zoda grinned and started shouting.

"HA! All of you will bow down to me some day! I will kill you all with my carnivorous flowers!" Zoda began laughing maniacally. Suddenly, three people flew out of the audience, accompanied by a small robot and an owl. They tackled Zoda, and Terry picked out one of them as Phoenix and the robot as QQQ. The other two, a man in a red suit, a cape, and a mask, and a woman in a red suit with what looked like a white bikini over it, Terry couldn't recognize. Phoenix pointed a laser at Zoda while QQQ, the owl, and the two others held Zoda down.

"Laugh it up, why don't you," growled the man in red. "You can race – I can't stop you – but you will not threaten these people!"

Mr. Zero spoke up again. "Folks, these are four more of our racers. The superhero team of Super and Mrs. Arrow are in the red, the time-traveler Phoenix is in the white, and the robot is QQQ." The four brought Zoda back into the crowd and held onto him.

A middle-aged man, clad in a yellow shirt that stretched tightly over his stomach and a pair of robotic arms on his back, climbed onto stage, seemingly unperturbed by the recent turns of events. One of the robot arms waved. "This, folks, is Dr. Clash. He is a retired F-Zero mechanic, and even made his own craft. He has also made crafts for several other people." Both of the robotic arms waved as Clash stepped down.

A young man dressed in a suit fashioned from dinosaur skins climbed onto stage. He flashed a thumbs-up as Mr. Zero introduced him. "This is Beastman. He travels from planet to planet, protecting people from harmful animals." Beastman climbed down and scowled at the racer on his way up, a humanoid T. Rex.

"This is Bio-Rex." Bio-Rex growled at the crowd. "He was born from a genetically modified dino egg, and he wants to prove his superiority over humans." Bio-Rex gave a swipe at the air with his sharp claws and hissed on his way down.

A man who looked about thirty, dressed in a grimy pair of overalls and a blue cap, moved up to the stage, looking more than a little shaken. "This is Tanner," said Mr. Zero. "He is originally from the 20th century and was employed as a mechanic. Heh, he must be a little shocked at all the strange people he is seeing today." Tanner nodded slightly and tried to look slightly less scared. He was failing miserably. He walked back to the crowd, seeming relieved.

A very large man in a gray spandex suit walked up to the platform. Terry noticed that the platform, which was hovering, tilted slightly under his weight. The man had a very pronounced mustache. Mr. Zero looked a little shocked at the platform tilting, but pressed onward. "This is Mr. EAD. He is an android from the development group EAD, which also brought you the side-scrolling simulator and the authentic sword simulator. But I don't mean to advertise. Mr. EAD is here to complete his AI testing." Mr. EAD stepped down and the platform shifted back up.

"Next, we have James McCloud." A man with pointy hair (which gave the impression of fox ears) and a pair of sunglasses walked up. He was wearing an aviator's helmet, a tan shirt, green pants, and a pair of silver boots. "James here is the leader of an intergalactic band of fighter pilots, named the Star Foxes. James also has a son to support, so we wish him luck." James struck a pose and walked off.

The next person up, Terry noticed, was Don Genie. If the platform had tilted under Mr. EAD, now it was almost pointing in a forty-five degree angle. Mr. Zero introduced him. "Here is Don Genie. Genie is the head of a line of casinos, and unlike somebody else I could mention..." Cheatum scowled in the audience, "...his casinos don't have a horrible name." Genie nodded and scowled in the direction of Phoenix. He stepped down, and the sudden platform shift caused Mr. Zero to fall over. He landed in the audience, directly on top of a red, humanoid octopus.

Mr. Zero pulled himself up, apologized profusely to the octopus, and began to speak. "Folks, by amazing coincidence, this is our next racer, Octoman." Mr. Zero pulled himself pack on stage and Octoman followed. "Octoman is racing so that he can raise money for his home planet, as well as send his kids to school." Octoman waved two of his tentacles and climbed back down.

A man in a light blue suit and a small, fist-sized robot floating beside him climbed onto stage. "Here, we have John Tanaka. He works for the Galactic Space Federation, much like Ms. Summer and Ms. Flyer. He won't tell us his reason for racing, but I'm sure it will become evident." Terry noticed that John was staring quite pointedly at Jody. John climbed off stage.

"Our final racer today comes to us from Einstein Academy. Please welcome Digi-Boy!" Terry took a deep breath. His stomach was filled with butterflies and his hands were slick with sweat as he ascended onto the stage. Mr. Zero continued. "Digi-Boy is very intelligent and is rumored to be able to fix any mechanical device." Terry blushed and walked back off the stage.

"Well folks, those are all of our racers today! The races will be scored on a scale of zero to one hundred, with the first place winner getting one hundred points and so on. After all the races have been held, the results will be tallied and the winner will be determined. Also, all of the pilots' information can be found in the F-Zero info booklet you were given. With that, let the games begin!" The platform lowered as Mr. Zero directed the racers into their crafts.

Terry climbed into the craft and noted that he was in thirtieth place 'Oh well,' he thought, 'I can fix that.' A stoplight appeared on a screen in front of him, set on red. It clicked to yellow, and then to green. A computerized voice yelled, 'GO!' Terry and twenty-nine other racers gunned their engines and zoomed into the Aeropolis course.

Terry maneuvered smoothly in front of a yellow craft with the words 'Spark Moon' on the side. He sped around a tight curve, but nicked the edge of the road and a small electric jolt shocked the entire craft. Terry blinked. He wasn't used to this. In his moment of meditation, a small silver craft rammed the side of the Cosmic Dolphin, pushing him again into the wall. A sharper jolt permeated the vehicle, jolting Terry. He focused and accelerated to the side of the silver craft, meanwhile hitting a button on the dashboard. The Cosmic Dolphin spun quickly while moving forward, knocking the silver craft out of the way. It ricocheted into a wall, hitting it hard, and the silver craft exploded. A small medic hovercraft floated above the wreckage and pulled Daigoroh out. He glared at Terry.

Terry shook his head and accelerated even more. Soon, he had reached twentieth place, but the other nine racers were hot on his tail. He passed over a boost, but was dismayed to discover that the road was covered in ice. He tried to navigate a quick turn, but the combination of the slippery road and the speed caused his craft to spin out. Terry bounced off of a wall and quickly rebounded off of a pink, three-manned craft. Both of the crafts hit the walls again, causing severe damage to the Cosmic Dolphin. A siren was wailing in Terry's ear, and he was shocked to find that the Dolphin's stamina bar was at less than a quarter of the maximum. A craft rammed him from behind, and the bar quickly dropped further. Terry panicked. There wasn't a pit stop in sight, but one more hit would disqualify him from the race. He gunned his engines and used his special boost, which increased his speed exponentially but also sapped his craft's strength. The strength bar was now only a sliver of health, but Terry could see a pit stop coming up. Suddenly, though, he felt a jolt. A blue, elongated craft with white stripes rammed the Dolphin from the back and the Dolphin slowed to a stop. The engine lit up in flames as Terry hung his head. A medic craft floated by and took Terry out of the Dolphin. He couldn't believe it – his first race had ended with him in twenty-ninth place...


	6. Aftermath

Terry sat dejectedly on a small stool in the area where Mr. Zero had introduced all the racers. He stared at the ground and sighed. "I can't believe it... my first race... and my poor Dolphin..."

A palm slapped him in the back of the head. "Four-eyes! Suck it up!" Terry looked up and found that Daigoroh was sitting next to him. "I was disqualified, too! But do you see me whining? No! It's not the end of the world!" Daigoroh thought for a moment. "But I should hurt you for KOing me..."

Before Daigoroh could finish, Mr. Zero took the platform. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he yelled. "That was the first race of this year's Grand Prix! And was it not fantastic?" The audience screamed in response. "Now, it is time to declare the winners! In sixth place, we have the beautiful Jody Summer!" Jody stood near Mr. Zero, on a platform emblazoned with the number six. She waved to the crowd.

"Coming in at number five... the mysterious, unfathomable Skull!" The Skull slowly walked onto the number five platform and joined Jody in waving to the crowd.

"The fourth place winner... the new racer, Blade!" The young man with messy hair clambered onto the slightly taller number four platform and gave a peace sign to the audience.

"Number three is..." Mr. Zero began to snicker. "Dewey... Cheatum..." Much like at the opening ceremonies, he collapsed into a fit of irrepressible laughter. Cheatum fumed and left the racecourse, leaving the third platform empty. One of the audience members threw a rolled-up ball of trash at the hysterical emcee, and he regained his composure.

"Ahem, sorry. Ah, our number two winner is the famous, celebrated Captain Falcon." The world-renowned bounty hunter took the second platform and struck a series of poses, each one eliciting more and more cheers from the audience. Don Genie, Blood Falcon, and Samurai Goroh simultaneously snorted.

Mr. Zero grinned. "Ladies and gentlemen... are you ready?" He gestured to the group of racers. "One of these racers is the winner of this race. Do you even know who they are? Was the race too close to see?" The audience began to roar. "Well, folks, the winner of the first AX Cup race, Aeropolis: Screwdriver, is..." Despite being loud five seconds ago, a pronounced hush fell over the observers. "DON GENIE!" Mr. Zero yelled. Genie stepped onto the number one platform amidst a tsunami of cheers and applause.

"Now then, Mr. Genie, since you are the victor of this race, I'd like to ask you something." Mr. Zero stepped closer to Genie and held the microphone to his face. "If you win the Grand Prix, what will you do with the prize money?"

Genie scoffed. "Bah! That won't even pay for my cigars. I suppose I'll... I don't know, donate it to charity or something." For the second time in as many minutes, a distinct silence fell over the crowd. Genie snorted, then fell over. "BAHAHAHA! Right! I'm actually going to use my own money to pay for those sniveling wretches!" He continued cackling.

Terry and Daigoroh looked at each other. "Look, crap-for-brains," Daigoroh said, "Let's agree right here that one of us will beat that chump." Terry thought for a moment, and put his hand out. Daigoroh shook it.

"Deal."

A few hours later, Terry meandered back to the starting line of the course, where the results had been posted. He glanced at the list and noticed that he had come in 27th place instead of 29th – Daigoroh, QQQ, and John Tanaka had all placed below him, presumably because their crafts had blown up as well. He looked at the ground again. "My precious craft..." he thought. "It's wrecked; I'm going to have to put a lot of time into repairing it. It's a good thing that the next race is a month away..." He pictured Mr. Zero detailing the next course.

"Now, racers, the next course is in outer space. The course is, as you know, the Meteor Storm. Watch out for the meteors raining down from the heavens!" He grinned. "This race will be held exactly one month from today, at 1200 hours sharp! Good luck training!" Suddenly, a loud crash jarred Terry out of his memories. He whipped his head around.

A greasy man in a mechanics uniform, who Terry identified as Tanner, was pushing a large object with a cloth over it and had dropped a toolbox on his foot. He began to curse loudly and adeptly. Terry covered his ears as a mechanical arm extended from his belt and stuck a small button on Tanner's forehead. Tanner failed to notice anything and continued to curse.

"Stupid toolbox!" he yelled. "I ought to ORANGE your MINTY CROISSANT into the ground!" Tanner stopped. "Wait, what did I just say?"

"You've got a cursing chip on your forehead," Terry interjected. "It will replace your cursing with completely nonsensical phrases. The genius Dr. Aaron Williams invented it." Terry grinned. "What do you have under the sheet?"

"Well, kid, I tell you," Tanner began, "I think it's a RHODE ISLAND shame that a kid with your talent lost in the first FUN-FUN race. So, I decided to do you a favor." He pulled the sheet off, and underneath it was the Cosmic Dolphin. "I may be from the FINLAND 20th century, but I know a thing or two about mechanics! I fixed your machine, there!" Terry ran over and hugged Tanner.

"Thank you so much!" Terry said, "It would have taken me a month to fix it myself!" He climbed into the cockpit. "I gotta fly! Thanks again!" He accelerated and zoomed out of Aeropolis.

Tanner grinned. "That kid is going to win the whole SCARLET Grand Prix!" He frowned. "And maybe I can learn to stop cursing soon... I sound like a STAPLING moron..."

Terry drove out onto the open road. All of the spectators and other racers had left hours ago, so he had the entire highway to himself. He gunned his engine. "Okay, Dolphin," he murmured, "let's kick it up a notch." Terry stepped on the gas, and the Cosmic Dolphin shot off into the distance, blue flames licking the road behind it.

Soon, however, Terry heard a siren behind him. He looked, and a red craft with small wing-like appendages on the sides was following him. A red and blue light was flashing out of the windows. "Oh, no..." he thought. Terry pulled over and stepped out of the craft.

The police officer began to speak before Terry could see him. "It's not too often that I see children racing down the main Aeropolis road with such recklessness, eh, Terry?"

Terry was puzzled. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Has it been so long, Terry?" The officer stepped into the light.

"Phoenix!" Terry ran over to him. "Oh, you have no idea how relieved I am to see you!"

"Heh, don't worry. I'm not going to arrest you. I knew it was you when my speed radar first went off." Phoenix pulled out a clipboard. "However, I am going to have to warn you to cut down on the speed. Not all officers are as nice as I am." He smiled.

Terry smiled back. "Hey Phoenix, how about a race? Just for fun. This entire stretch of road is empty..."

Phoenix thought for a moment. "Okay, sure. I can never resist a challenge." They both got back into their respective vehicles and moved them so that they were sitting right beside each other. "The convenience store about five kilometers down will be the finish, okay?"

Terry nodded. "Let's get this show on the road!" They both started their engines and zoomed off into the distance. They twisted and weaved around each other, both trying to maneuver their best on the narrow road. Phoenix boosted ahead but was quickly cut short as a small dog ran out into the road in front of him. As Phoenix was stopped to let the puppy by, Terry rushed past.

"Oh, tough luck, Phoenix!" Terry called out as he passed his opponent. Phoenix glared and burst into activity once more, hot on Terry's tail. Terry pressed a key on his dashboard, and the Cosmic Dolphin glowed. A small orb circled around the craft once, knocking Phoenix back more.

"You will pay for that!" Phoenix laughed. Suddenly, the wings on Phoenix's craft opened and the craft itself became airborne. He flew over Terry's head and landed neatly in front of the Cosmic Dolphin. Phoenix waved at Terry. "The store is in sight!" Phoenix muttered. "I'm going to make it!"

With no warning, a small, green, tank-like vehicle burst past Phoenix and crossed the finish line first. Phoenix stared, amazed, for a moment and crossed the finish line too, at the exact same time as Terry. They both got out of their crafts and walked over to the green mystery craft. A small white robot got out.

"QQQ!" Phoenix yelled. QQQ clicked in affirmation. "Why did you ruin our race?"

"Well, sir, it seemed the best option at the time. Had I not interfered, you and Terry would have likely destroyed each other's vehicles in your respective bids to win."

Phoenix looked at the ground. "I guess you're right. I can't stand losing, and I bet Terry can't either." Phoenix turned around and shook hands with Terry. "Well, Terry, it looks like this is a draw."

Terry nodded as Phoenix and QQQ climbed back into their vehicles. He watched them as they zoomed off into the distance. "Oh well," he thought, "Losing a race isn't so bad. At least I can have some fun along the way..."


	7. Meanwhile, Back at the Academy

**Chapter 7**

**Meanwhile, Back at the Academy…**

"_It's a beautiful day out here in Aeropolis! The mayor got the main computer fixed up in time, and what a sight it is! The new beige finish is gleaming in the sun like a big… beige… um… never mind. The racers are coming up to the presentation platform… Oh! You would not believe it, Bill! The legendary Captain Falcon is standing before my very eyes, looking as brilliant as ever…" _The TV murmured quietly to the two young boys huddled around it, seated in the corner of an Einstein Academy common room. The boys went unnoticed as the other students in that dorm went about their business.

"D'you think Terry's doing okay?" whispered Smith.

"If'n I know Terry, he's doin' fine," whispered Mickey. "By the way, why are we whisperin'?" A dark shadow loomed menacingly over the two students.

"That's why," whispered Smith.

"Hello, boys," the owner of the shadow said. "What might we be watching, hmmm?" The tall, skinny man leaned over Mickey's head and picked up the small TV.

"Headmaster Klogg! We weren't doing anything wrong-" Smith was interrupted by the headmaster.

"My, my, my… rotting your brains on this F-Zero nonsense… but as long as we have this TV out, we might as well see who's racing today," Klogg muttered in a voice that sounded straight out of a James Bond movie. The TV announcer came on again.

"_Well, Bill, all but one of the racers have been revealed. So far we've seen Captain Falcon, the two Gorohs, Jody Summer, and a plethora of other racers! The only question now is, who is the final racer?"_

"Umm… Headmaster, wouldn't you rather watch, um, the Spanish Channel?" Smith made a grab for the channel control switch, but Klogg quickly moved the TV out of Smith's reach.

"Quiet, Smithton, the final racer is about to be announced…" Klogg smirked. "And I think I know who he is…"

"_Oh! This is a shock! The final racer appears to be a young boy, never seen in the F-Zero Grand Prix before! Just a moment, Bill, I believe his name is Digi-Boy… And that's that! The F-Zero Grand Prix, AX Cup, is about to begin! Let's send it over to-"_ Klogg pressed a long, spindly finger to a button on the TV and it crackled into silence.

"Hmm… a child named Digi-Boy was the last racer, huh? I guess Terry didn't sign up for the races after all… we will have to search elsewhere…" Klogg walked off muttering things about his guesses being really far off, his bald head gleaming in the glare of the fluorescent lights.

Smith and Mickey looked at each other. "Man, Mick, I think our headmaster is a great deal dumber than we originally gave him credit for." Mickey nodded in agreement. "But hey! He left the TV here! We can watch the race!" He and Mickey sat down around the TV and turned it back on.

"_Well, Bill, the race has just gotten underway! The racers have just gone around the first curve of the course, and they should be hitting that long jump about… OOH! Doctors, you've got your first patient! The robot QQQ failed to make the jump and plowed the Rolling Turtle straight into the ground! That's several hundred feet, folks! As of now, though, it appears that Jody Summer is in the lead, followed closely by Don Genie… they've rounded the 180 degree turn and now they're on the dirt path…Here comes another jump; I'll be surprised if they all make it. Aaand… I'm not disappointed! John Tanaka swerved out of the jump and plowed through one of Aeropolis' famous skyscrapers! I can see the wreckage, folks, the city's not going to be happy about that…"_

"Do you see Terry?" Smith asked.

"I caught a glimpse a' him a moment ago…" Mickey replied. "He's been trading places with Princia Ramode as well as Daigoroh, but he's still at the back a' the pack."

"C'mon, Terry…"

"_Folks, we've got some action at the back of the pack today! It seems that Digi-Boy just ran Daigoroh into a wall! That's our third accident today! Anyway, we move now to the slippery slope section of the course! These roads are covered entirely with ice! Folks, although it is a beautiful sight, seeing these sparkling swaths of roadway, it doesn't look good for our racers! Some of them have already begun to rebound off of each other!"_ The camera zoomed in on the Cosmic Dolphin bouncing off of the Pink Spider. _"Aaaand… KABOOM! We've got our fourth wreck today! Folks, we've got one exciting race here today! So far, we've eliminated QQQ, John Tanaka, Daigoroh, and now…"_

Smith and Mickey leaned closer to the TV.

"_Digi-Boy! But it now looks like we have a new leader…"_ The TV continued to babble quietly as Smith and Mickey sat back.

"I can't believe it…" Smith said softly, eyes wide.

"Terry… lost…" Mickey put his head between his knees. "It can't be…"

The other students gathered around. "Guys, what's wrong?" one piped up, a short kid with jet-black hair.

Smith said nothing but merely pointed at the TV screen. The results were posted. Down at the bottom of the list sat the name 'Digi-Boy,' with a large 'DISQUALIFIED – 0 POINTS' sign next to it.

- - - - - - - - -

Moonlight fell over a darkened room. Two figures, shrouded by darkness, sat on opposite sides of a table. "So, we've got a deal?"

"Yes. I find this… Terry Getter… and when I do, I bring him here. In return, you'll fund my… projects?"

"Yes. You've got it right."

"May I ask what you need this boy for?"

"Let's just say… I need his brainpower."

"I take it I shouldn't inquire further?"

"Should I inquire about your 'activities'?"

"Touché. Well, fear not. Before the next F-Zero race, Terry will be here… signed, sealed, and delivered, as they say." The man stood up and began to cackle wildly. "EyahahaHAHAHA!" He left the room.

The other man remained seated. "Tick-tock, Terry… you hear it? It's the clock… counting you down!"

- - - - - - - - - -

_"This just in… Reports are coming in that over Mute City, several children, all male and between the ages of 13 and 16, have been confirmed missing. In their places, a single note has been found, reading, 'Tick-tock, your time is up!' Mute City police have yet to find the culprit behind these mysterious disappearances, but rumors are flying that the Galactic Space Federation's top task force leaders will be scouring Mute City for any and all leads. This has been Mute News at 11; please join us tomorrow when we discuss how to lose weight by eating less food. Good night." _

**End Chapter Seven**


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